The rules of madness
by Tamomelia
Summary: Trapped in Azkaban for 30 years can turn your head upsidedown, perhaps madness has taken over.
1. 30 years

A cold breeze caressed her cheek gently, bringing the salt air into the cold room. A low chuckle, more like madness hacking into your brain, came from the other corner of the room.  
"Maybe a fisher is coming? A pretty little fisher with his fishes?" Madness, stupid, annoying madness. A part of her everyday. Misery. She frowned a bit when she looked over at her friend. His hair hung down in his face like dead fishes. His eyes were black as raven feathers, deep purple waves had frozen under his eyes. She remembered how he once had looked. He had golden skin, almost olive. Now he was pale with a purple tone. No, he wasn't her friend anymore. He was as mad as she'd almost gotten. A few glimpses of sanity had washed back into her mind, almost like there was hope there. Far, far out into the horizon. She would never get better, she was a lunatic. Mad as a hatter and worse should be.  
_Murderess. _

Days like weeks, hours like years. Nothing was connected right, especially not in her mind. How would you ever expect that? Didn't you know where she had been the last 30 years? Azkaban. How wonderful… How extremely boring. With rhythmic drums she hit her head against the never-breaking stone wall. 30 years of torture, 30 years of dragging herself to hell, only to return to some sort of psychosis and then return to hell. With a loud scream she threw herself at the stone wall in the too small cell. Nails tried, as so many times before, to rip the wall open. Only resulting in opening wounds. Her screams went louder as the pain rose to almost extremes. Memories flashing, pictures in 100 kilometers per hour. She screamed louder, louder, louder. The dead could be woken, everything seemed to listen to her screams. She hit herself against the wall again, tears who never were there ran down her cheek, making its path in a dirty face.  
"Let me out! Let me out!" She fell to the floor as her voice went to the loudest it could; it faded to bird screams, almost like something dying. She cried her real tears, if they ever could be called real. As fast as terror, agony and pure sorrow had come, the anger rose in her chest. She wanted to scream, but her voice was gone. Why the hell was she still here? Doomed to be in a rat hole for 10 extra years. Those _bloody, fucking halfbloods _and worse they were! She hated them. She was _capable, _she could go out of here! She wouldn't kill again. She didn't want to end up _here _again! She started hitting her fists against the floor, angry as a heathen god. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. How could they lock her up in a small cell, trap her like this was a cage? How could they bear to trap a woman as fragile as she could be, a never aging creature, here? They were the cruel ones. They were the barbarians! Damned idiots. She would kill them all. The thoughts flew by and she laid her arms around her legs.  
_Damned idiots, she would be out soon. Just... 3 terrible months._

__Was she dying? Nah, she could feel how it burned when she pinched herself. And the dementors weren't capable of killing her. Nobody was. They would never be either. She started to think; how were things? What happened out there? Of course she knew about all that about Voldemort, blablabla. She had been put in Azkaban 5 years earlier, actually. What a pity, she would have liked to watch some murders. And still not. She wasn't supporting him, he could sail his own ocean. She was evil, of course, somehow? But she didn't support him. She had killed in cold blood, but that was for other causes than this mudblood-extinguishing. She knew he had fallen too. It was… Wasn't it 1981? Well, it wasn't bad. Not bad at all, he held onto the top for 11 years. Well, you had to fall sometime, no matter how. That must mean that it was 1995 now, wasn't that right? Oh, how long she had been in. She snorted, digging her chin into her palm as she sat flat down on the floor. Damned ministry, she could have been free. Well… Perhaps she shouldn't have killed? Nah, she should and she did. End of that saga, what she did she would stand for. Nobody would be extremely angry anyway, except for those who were like the ones she killed. A grin came to her face and she laid down to the floor, staring up and pretending that the moon was there.  
_Three months and she would be out… Joy._

**Well, I hope you like it? It was short, I know. But hey, I didn't want to have too much information in the first chapter. This is kind off the introduction part, somehow. She won't be a meany, still she is. Pleaseplease review!**


	2. Being marked

**This chapter will last for about a time of 2 months. Hope you'll like it!  
HP is stiiiill not mine. Thanks to pretty J.K. Rowlings for inventing paradise. Gah!**

_Uhh… Dementors._

She had blacked out. If it was because of the pain or exhaustion she didn't know, all she knew was that it got all too dark when those vile creatures was standing in front of her. Sucking the remaining joy and hope out of her mind and guts. It was typically. They were actually upset. A prisoner who had been there for 30 years would leave soon, without dying. Dementours couldn't stand it, they really couldn't stand it!  
Slowly the picture of a world in hell came back, colors never came. They weren't here.  
"Tilia, come." A low voice beside her let her know that one of her more sane inmates was with her. Taking care of her in some way. Tilia, that was her name. Actually she was named Tiliana Rajani Hunt. Well, it was a name for different locations, to say it like that. She nodded, vague. Too tired to really move any body parts, but she stood up. She had to.  
"How long have I been out?" She whispered as she half grasped onto her friend.  
"About half an hour. But don't worry, nobody came near you. The dementors were supposed to kill someone else, so they just left you." He swallowed with difficulties, she wasn't the only one feeling the doom in this prison. Obviously not… She nodded slowly and the both of them found a safe wall to lean on. She looked at herself.  
Fair hair, like new snow, destroyed by the lack of care in the prison. Skin that looked paler under her hair, almost see-through. She couldn't see her face, she hadn't for thirty years. But it felt like the same, she just felt so… So tired. She looked at her right arm, found the spot she was looking for. The one on her wrist.  
_"A."  
_It was ripped into her skin, a big A. Standing for this famous prison. It was done by some other inmates, just for the fun, for them. She closed her eyes and laid her arms around her legs as she sunk down. Now it was two months and one week left. Time went by, slowly. She grinned her teeth together, opening her eyes and watching the surroundings. The black and grey, both creatures and the building itself. She wrinkled her nose, hating it to bits. She seemed quite convinced, _yet, _that she would die here. A snort escaped her mouth, barely catching the attention of her friend. This was not the insane lunatic one from her cell. _  
Thank Merlin. _  
"What's up with all those noises, Tilia?" He didn't look at her. Just stare into the roof as his head was tilted backwards.  
"Just about my damned death." She giggled a bit; maybe she was mad after all?  
"Well, you lucky bastard, it's not going to be here." He sneered at her, still not looking.  
"You damned man, stop being such a bitter git. I can't help that I got a milder punishment than you." She shrugged, still watching the surroundings. It was how they were; they could argue and still look everywhere but the other person.  
"It feels unfair… Just because of the people you killed! Damn you, Tilia. You'll die in the hands of Death Eaters. Or perhaps a few rotten werewolves." He crossed his arms, now staring forward.  
"Whatever you say, I'll be out soon anyway." She shook her head and closed her eyes.  
_So tired._

_Soon she was out! _  
A sudden and unexpected joyful feeling went through her, leaving her with a startled. Now it was just one month left. Exactly one month! Yes, she was keeping track of the days. If not she would go _completely _mad. As her cell mate had. He'd died, killed by dementors. A chill went down her spine; she remembered how he had screamed when they came. And killed him in the very cell they had lived in. The cell she still sat in when he was killed. She had had enough, if one didn't die by the dementors mouth in this prison, one could die by fright. She yawned, watching how her cell door was open, but she didn't care for going out.  
Suddenly nails screeched in concrete walls.  
"Woohoo? Is the tiny, pretty darling still in?" Malicious madness rung in the female voice and Tilia's eyes went wide.  
_No, please, no! _  
It was that woman, _again. _She closed her eyes tightly as three wizards and one witch came into her cell. She refused to defense herself, it wouldn't do any good.  
"We're soon leaving, and so are you. You'd might like a like leaving present, wouldn't you? Itty bitty baby." She refused to look, wouldn't, couldn't. The mockery was obvious and soon she felt the men taking her by the arms, dragging her up to standing posture. She opened her eyes, looking into dark, mad eyes surrounded by wild hair. A feminine face, a face far worse taken by evilness and madness than hers was. She closed her eyes again.  
"Turn her around and show me her back, won't you guys?" Her tone went blank and she was turned around, clothes ripped off her back.  
_This would hurt.  
_Suddenly her lungs built up a soul-wrecking scream, pain filled her back. Feeling how blood dripped down on the floor.

"Is it bad?" Her voice was a whisper as she laid on her stomach. Her friend was sitting beside her, looking at her back.  
"They've decorated your whole back, Tilia." His tone was dead serious and blank.  
"I kind of know that, you fucking idiot!" She screamed, suddenly feeling the pain again. "But what the _hell _did they write now?" She could feel tears of pain prick behind her eyelids.  
"That A again, you've been marked seriously. They've even left their signature." His tone was filled with disgust when he told her about the signatures.  
"I'll be forever reminded of my cellmates with a passion for torture. That won't be bothering me one day. But today it hurts like hell…" She bit her teeth hard together, knowing that her pain could not be relieved. They had no wands, no good water and no help. This marking was the worst one she'd ever heard of, and now it was done to her.  
_Bloody hell._  
"Please, just sleep. I will watch over you. I don't have many months left to live; I will fill one of them with taking care of someone who needs help." He patted her arm and she was filled with the greatest gratitude she'd ever felt.


	3. Freedom redone

**I messed up at my first upload of this chapter guys. Read again!**

_Just a few weeks. She wouldn't die here, she couldn't.  
_That thought made her fight; fight the darkness that kept surrounding her mind with a threatening speed. She knew very well that another month in this hell would bring her to her knees and she would die. Surely as she had killed two men.  
With shaking knees she fell to the floor, weak of angst and fear. Those dementors were too close now, they kept _looking _at her, watching her every move. She couldn't help that she wasn't going to be put to sleep! If the judges wanted her to die, intended her to die, they would have given her that punishment. She didn't get that punishment; she was given 20 years in Azkaban and was called into a hearing after those years. They had said that she was still dangerous, still a murderess.  
_They had given her 10 more years in hell._  
She felt like if she had died over and over again, everybody here had died. They died the day they were judged by those vile men and women and putted inside this cage. They awoke, they died again. Someone actually died to never be woken again; they were the ones killed my inmates or dementors.  
_She lived.  
_And now she was going to a hearing. With a bitter mind she went out of her cell, never in 30 years caring for her appearance. A wizard was waiting for her outside the cell, a brute of a man who quickly took her wrist and dragged her away from these quarters. She held her eyes open, carried a grin of triumph as she walked by her inmates who would not get out so soon. She won, she got out. She got out alive.  
The man dragged her far away, to a small door in the same color as this prison. Grey. He opened it, she knew she couldn't, and then they were outside Azkaban. Watching a great ocean roam and roar. She wanted to laugh, laugh out the madness, but he suddenly apparated and she had no choice but to come with him.

Suddenly everything went black, she passed out  
_Bloody hell, one didn't handle anything nowadays._She was carried by the brute, carried to the court room. The hated room she'd already seen twice.  
"We must wake her." The brute said as two wizards walked toward them as soon as they were inside the court room.  
"Why has she passed out?" One of them asked, keeping a safe distance from the ill treated woman. He watched her, how her white, ragged hair hung down from her shoulders, how her porcelain skin was covered with random splats of dried blood and dirt. She wore grey clothing, almost like a shapeless dress without arms. She seemed so fragile, this woman. She was the same he had seen ten years ago, but still she was so much more fragile now.  
"I got the impression that a few dementors had been bothering her extra for a few days." The brute said slowly, not sure if it would be bad for him to say so. The men nodded slowly, watching the crossbreed. The closest one took something up from his pocket and held it under her nose. The tiny nose wrinkled and suddenly her eyes were open wide and a poisonous glare was slung at the man who had held her. He let her go instantaneously, truly afraid of the woman. Both of the wizards walked quickly away to their places and people watched amazed how she slowly, without looking at anyone, to the single chair. She crossed her legs, placing her hands on each handle as the brute strung them to the chair. She looked up on the woman and men over her, watching her like she was a lab rat and something utterly dangerous.  
"So we are back here after ten years." The main man started with a calm, dry voice. She looked at him with her eyes, pale blue, almost grey. "Do you confirm that your name is Tiliana Rajani Hunt, and that you got the punishment of 20 years in Azkaban for manslaughter, only to get 10 more years for your cruel behavior?" He looked straight at her obviously he could his speech perfectly. No wonder, he was the one she had seen ten years ago.  
"Yes, I confirm those facts." She raised one eyebrow and her face got bored. Low hissing voices were heard, about her 30 years.  
"But she can't have been in for so many years!" she head a younger wizard proclaim, slowly she moved her gaze towards him.  
"Miss Hunt is not fully a witch. She is half witch and half Sirene. Besides she is also quart Erkling. And they do not age if they don't want to. Do you confirm this, Miss Hunt?" The man sent her a harsh look, obviously not liking her breed. She smiled sweetly as she looked at him again.  
"If I confirm that I'm half a man-luring sea woman, half a witch and a quart evil child-eating elf? Well, yes, I do confirm that. And I do confirm that I'm probably older than you." Her tone went harsh too. She looked at him, having a staring competition with the lead man.  
"Very well then. We should start this hearing." Again he sounded dry, boring. "Have you, Miss Hunt, been acting anything like your previously behavior? Have you killed anyone or performed torture?" He was reading from a list now, she knew that.  
"No, I have not, Your Honor." She looked straight at him, hones.  
"Have you any intentions of performing one of the told actions?" He looked at her, remembering her actions very well.  
"No, that is a chapter of my life I will not go back to. It was a part of self defense and I will avoid those creatures." She still looked at him, her look went sore and she could hear a compassionate sigh from a woman.  
"How long is it since you have wounded another creature?" He still sounded bored, she didn't care.  
"It has been 27 years, Your Honor." She looked at her hands before she looked at them again, and it was true.  
"Have you been wounded or attacked in Azkaban?" Now he looked at her, obviously wanting to provoke a violent behavior. She nodded, staring directly into his eyes.  
"Yes, I have been wounded and tortured by my inmates on several occasions." She swallowed, feeling the pain in her back.  
"Who have done it to you and what have they done?" He didn't care about her well being, he wanted to provoke her.  
"On my wrist I've gotten an A cut in by a Death Eater I do not remember the name of, a month ago a woman wounded me. Bellatrix, you know very well who, and three other male Death Eaters carved a big A into my back with their signatures." She raised her chin, looking at every person in the court room.  
"Then I want Mister Hoist to examine Miss Hunt." He nodded to the brute and he swung his wand and a covering board appeared over and in front of her. He let her wrists loose from the chair and she stood up. He took her wrist, twisting it and examining it. He nodded slowly, not touching the A. Then he turned her and uncovered her badly bruised back. She closed her eyes, a tear slowly dripping down her cheek. He took a step back, making a surprised noise and she heard several in the court got anxious by his reaction. He let her go and she sat down in the chair again. The board disappeared. The brute, Mister Hoist, stood in front of her and looked at the people.  
"She speaks the truth. On her right wrist she has an A and her back is badly bruised all over. It's an A and the names that is cut into her back too is; Bellatrix Lestrange, Rodolphous Lestrange, Dolohov and Alecto. " He looked carefully up at the witches and wizards, hating the words and names he had spoke.  
"Thank you, Mister Hoist." The man dismissed as he looking at her, not caring, just searching. Searching for evil, madness, hate. She had it all, but not in the degree he _wanted _her to have.  
"Your Honor, I am not afraid of them." She said it more to herself and he raised his eyebrow.  
"And may I ask you why?" His eyebrow was still raised.  
"They're like wild dogs. They will attack you as soon as they see that you are afraid. Just like you, Your Honor." She smiled sweetly to him, mockery behind it. He sneered at her, but she didn't care.  
"But will you live amongst the wizard community, Miss Hunt?" He laid pressure on her last name, making it seem like who she was. Well, wasn't she? She had killed two men by hunting them down like animals. And yes, thou shall believe, they were like _animals. _She smiled crocked, seemed to think a bit as she watched her hands again. Locked to the chair, as if she was an animal. Ok, she had to concentrate to not laugh by her obscure mind.  
"No, I will not. To avoid each and every magical person in this world will be hard, but I do believe that I should find peaceful surroundings and perhaps persons who will be easier for me to be around. What I'm going to say now is not to insult any of you, but too many wizards and witches hold on to the past, it's hard to be around you." She looked at all of them, talking calmly. Surprisingly the main man, His Honor, seemed to be somehow calmed by her answer.  
"Good, but I surely hope those companions won't be Death Eaters." He held her eyes for a moment, with suspiciousness. She shook her head, remaining with the ease and calm mind.  
"I am not interested in Death Eaters. They want war and bloodshedding. I am absolutely not interested in war with anyone or to see war, and I am far over my days of bloodshedding." She bit her lip, as if to avoid a hurting memory. She looked at some of the women in the court, hoping for their support at least.  
"That is good to hear. Now we should vote." He fixed some of his papers. "Who is willing to let Tiliana Rajani Hunt out of Azkaban?" He looked around himself, seeing that hands were reached up in the air. A dissatisfied wrinkle appearing over his nose. She smiled, delighted and obviously relieved.  
"And who votes for the woman to be sent back to Azkaban?" The way he talked sounded like the bells of doom and she saw his hand rise and a few others. Now he looked utterly upset.  
"Okay, this means that Tiliana Rajani Hunt is officially released from the prison Azkaban. You can walk, you are free." He looked at her, upset, mad. She just smiled and Mister Hoist came to release her wrists. She looked up at the wizards and witches, a single tear on her cheek. She bowed deeply and got up. She looked once at them again before she followed Mister Hoist out of the court room.  
"Now you will go to the lady over there," He pointed at a woman at the end of the hallway, "and she will give you your wand back. And some robes." He looked at her clothes, ripped and ruined by time and people. "Take care, Miss Hunt." He nodded slightly and she let herself smile at him, she was happy, so why not.  
"You too, Mister Hunt." She turned around and walked to the lady, knowing that she for the first time in 30 years was completely free… Out of Azkaban, once again deciding what she could do with her life. The first thing would be to get out.


	4. A ragged straydog

**It's damned hard to look at those beautiful mountains I'm by now, and write the court thing in the past chapter. Ohdear, that was a hard one. This was a bit longer one, I think I will publish another chapter in a few hours though, I have so much to write now!**

Happiness was the smallest degree of what she was feeling. She was feeling indescribable freedom, wind in her salty hair, forgiveness from herself and a bunch of feelings who'd finally been let loose from her troubled mind and heart. She was free; she was out. The woman had given her a pale blue robe, her wand and a paper that was written her freedom. She didn't care for grooming, she didn't care to remember that she was unwell; she only cared for the happiness threatening to break her chest and the desire to get out. And so she did.

The remaining evening light cast an enchanting light upon her as she came out of the telephone box. The weird glares from the people still out in the streets of London gave her no worries. She just walked away, with her pale blue robe, messy hair and a dreaming grey gaze. Maybe the color would return to her eyes now that she was out of Azkaban? It was a good possibility and even that cheered her up. With eyes wide open she walked, wanted to keep walking until the end of time. She felt the unknown breeze caress her cheek, without the bitter taste of salt and madness. Perhaps she would become a sane person now? One could dream, one could truly dream. The paper she held in her hands was given one last look before she stuck it inside her robe and she kept walking. It had to be late summer; the trees she saw still held its colors and the wind carried a gentle breeze which was London to her. It was like this it had been the last time she saw London. The trees carried sweet and gentle green colors, the wind carried all those familiar smells; fish, people, flowers and the sound of children laughing, adults stressing and dogs barking nearby. All those memories brought her home, it wasn't that changed. There was just more cars, more people, more… Life. She just smiled, knowing that she didn't belong here anyway. Not anymore, at least. Her legs made her walk for a long time, even though exhaustion made her ears rung. She needed that park, the park she had been at for so many years ago. She stopped, closed her eyes and knew that nobody was here now and then she apparated. She didn't need to go long, but this was safer for her health. With a happy smile she appeared in the park she so long had dreamed about and her legs disappeared under her.

Things were darker than when she last time had her eyes open, this brought back odd memories. Harsh memories. She closed her eyes again and felt uncomfortable feelings battling, she opened her eyes again, forcing herself to remember that this wasn't 30 years ago. She was a new person and those persons were _dead. _A small smile appeared and she leaned towards the bench she was sitting at. She jumped up, looked scared at the bench. How the hell did she end up there? She had _not _been sitting at it when she fainted! Suspiciously she turned around herself, looking for something that would explain this. Was there anyone here, someone who had moved her? Nothing there, nothing except a big, ragged, black dog. She stared at it for a moment, seeing how it tilted its head. Without looking away she sat down again.  
"One would think a stray dog like yourself would keep some distance from a being like me." She crossed her arms, starring at it as it moved closer to her, sitting down a few inches from her legs.  
"Are you a stray, doggie?" She smiled to it, without flashing her teeth. She didn't flash her teeth to animals, she wasn't that stupid. Oddly enough it nodded to her and she tilted her head.  
"You're intelligent, aren't you?" She hummed amused and let her hands loose from the way too tight grip she had on herself. "But I doubt that you are a dog, sorry." She laughed softly, watching how the dog seemed to smile before it stood up and looked at her, as if it wanted her to come with him.  
"I can't just go with anyone, mister." She raised her eyebrow, still with a mild expression. He nodded at her, staring at her with kind eyes and she sighed, knowing that she was far too exhausted to refuse anyway.  
"Okay, but you should turn into a human later. You're an animagus, it's obvious." She added as she saw him looking oddly at her. She stood up and walked with the dog.  
_Yeah, right. Dog…  
_She knew her sight was too blurry for how it should be and suddenly she fell to the ground. Like always the darkness caught her too late and she felt how the ground ram the back of her head.

She coughed, feeling how her lungs hurt like a reindeer in a freeway, her vision seemed to be blurry yet. A room, she was in a quite big room. It seemed to be a bedroom; at least she was laying on a bed. The room was decorated in light green shades. Even a tad of silver was on the walls, performing their dance along the borders, like flowers and animals mixed together and thrown into a summer's breeze. Silky drapes of darker green were wrapped around the bed, only on the sides. It didn't bring the feeling of "_An Arabic princess." _But rather more like… Well, something sophisticated and hidden. She was hidden. She turned around, noticing itching on her back and gasping in pain when she lay on her side. Her mouth was hanging and tears pressuring behind her lids as she knew that the wound must have opened by her movement. Pain filled her mind completely and she bit her teeth tightly together and closed her eyes. Suddenly a noise was heard, a door opening. She opened her eyes, forcing herself to bite the pain back and try to communicate with the man; she knew it had to be him. The face that met her as the drapes were shoved away was a face cluttered with face. He had black hair that curled nicely and messy around his face with grey eyes that almost made her want to hold her breath. A suiting mustache and a few days old beard made his face seem more out of the ordinary and she couldn't help but to think that this man was really attractive.  
"Our ragged guest is awake, I see." His voice made him even more trustworthy to her and he sat down on the bed. She sat up too, tilting her head and watching him, not really sure what to say or do.  
"Maybe we could start with a proper introduction? I couldn't really speak when I was in my dog shape." A slight grin made his lips open and bright white teeth shone nicely. She smiled back at him, still unsecure somehow. "My name is Sirius Black, also known as _doggie._" He grinned more at her, making her feel somewhat more secure on him. She couldn't help it, he had a good personality, one _wanted _to trust him.  
"My name is Tilia." She brushed one dot of hair behind her ear, looking down. She was still a bit skeptic.  
"And your whole name?" He tilted his head, almost talking to her like she was a kid. Well; she couldn't blame him. She had the appearance of a 19 year old girl.  
"It's Tiliana Rajani Hunt." She looked up at him, slightly piercing his soul with eyes so bright blue, but yet so gray.  
"It's nice to meet you then, Tilia." He smiled at her, using her nickname instead.  
"It's nice to meet you too, Sirius. But… Where am I?" Her head tilted, suddenly she looked around herself again.  
"At my house, sadly I can't tell you where. It's a secret location. That means you're safe." He was reassuring her and she laughed.  
"I don't need safety… Well, at least I don't hope so…" Suddenly she seemed insecure again and his eyes were searching in hers.  
"You don't know? Well, Tilia, why don't you tell a bit about yourself." He smiled at her again, settling down a little better, preparing himself for a longer explanation. She looked down and up at him again, not so sure what she should do or say. Suddenly she decided what she should; she should tell him everything.  
"I've been in Azkaban for 30 years." She swallowed a lump stuck in her throat, not watching how his face changed. "I was judged for two murders I committed and a brutal… A brutal _ripping._" Now she looked up at him, seeing how he looked shocked. "I killed two werewolves to save myself, not that the judges cared. They knew what I am and judged me for that. The other I badly injured was also a werewolf. I intended to kill him too, but he was too strong for me." She looked away from him, knowing that he would throw her out.  
"What were they going to do to you, Tilia?" His voice wasn't judging like others were, he seemed calm.  
"They were going to turn me against my will and use me as the Alfa's mate. I couldn't let them do that, they were one of the worst werewolves in all of England." Now she looked up at him and she startled him with her fear, it was shining out of her eyes. "You are younger than me, Sirius. But I think you understand." Her lower lip started to shiver and suddenly his arms were around her shoulders.  
"Don't think about it, you were judged too harshly… I understand why you did it." It sounded like he understood her and he got silent for a moment.  
"How old are you, Tilia?" The silence roamed around them for a while and she looked up at him.  
"I will be 49 years, but I age slower than you wizards." She sighed, feeling suddenly like an old hag. He laughed mildly and patted her shoulder as he let go of her.  
"You're a mix, I see?" His head was tilted and she smiled at him.  
"Yup, half witch and half sirene, and quart Erklin. I'm some breed… " Her eyebrows rose as she looked away, still seeing the grin in his face. He didn't care.


	5. A pretty birdie

**I think I fell in love with writing this story, it's so much fun. I wrote this shortly after the fourth chapter, that says a lot. I'm usually a bit lazy! Hah. Please review, I know there are readers **

"I want to help you, Tilia." The goodness that not only was in his mouth, but in his actions, warmed her. She looked down, feeling like she was a burden. "I do not care if you say against me." He was a bit strict, but he smiled when he looked up at her. Once again Sirius patted her shoulder and left her in the room. She slowly slid down in a more comfortable position and stared out in the room. Perhaps things were going to fix themselves now.

Sirius went down the stairs and met the concerned faces of the few that actually were here now. He had called for Molly Weasley, knowing that she would be the person with enough care. Arthur had come with her and out of the blue one of his best friends, Remus Lupin had come too.  
"What have you dragged in now, Sirius?" A smile laid on the lips of his friend, but still he could see the concerned look that searched his soul. He apparently thought this was a weird action from his friend. No wonder. Now Molly came close to him, putting her hands on her hips and looking strict at Sirius.  
"Sirius Black, what is going on?" The voice that always was so calm seemed upset now, not happy with not knowing why he needed her to be here. With a deep breath he nodded them with him to one of the living rooms and heavily he sat down at a couch.  
"We have a new occupant here in Grimmauld's place." A small grin took place on his troubled face and he started to think about the pretty little birdie that was sleeping at his mother's old bedroom. She was a pretty one, a terrible ragged one. He could see the eyes of both Molly and Arthur shine with surprise and even Moony, his friend Lupin, raised one eyebrow. Sirius scratched his forehead, searching for some good way to explain this. "I found her when I was walking around in my dog shape. She had fainted in the park nearby, laying there unprotected. I knew from the very instant I saw her that she was a magical being. And she looked too innocent to be evil. I lifted her to a bench and waited her for to wake up." He stopped, hearing the upset noises of Molly. "I couldn't leave her there! So she wake up when the sun had gone down and she seemed so lost. Ragged and ruined somehow. I got her to follow me; she had realized that I was an animagus." A grin lightened his face and Moony clapped his hands laughing.  
"Smart girl!" Moony said grinning. Sirius nodded.  
"Yes, but she fainted of exhaustion and I got her to Grimmauld's place. It took a while before she woke up and then we got to greet properly. Her name is Tiliana Rajani Hunt, she had been in Azkaban for 30 years, and still she looks nothing over 19 years." He stopped, looking at his friends, Molly were covering her mouth in shock.  
"She is a mixed breed and was judged unfairly. She killed two werewolves and wounded one badly. They were going to do horrid things to her probably and were of the mean kind…" Slowly he shook his head, hating the unfairness in the world. He looked over at his friend, looking for his thought. Lupin was a werewolf, still he smiled. He seemed to understand, just as the thought he would.  
"She was released today, and more I really don't know." He looked out the window, watching the silent night slowly fade to daylight.  
"And there is where I come in." He turned his head and saw the smile on Molly's face; relief filled him as he knew she would take a motherly role for the lost child.  
"We need to groom her a bit, Molly. But promise me that you won't get a big shock, she looks quite beaten up." Sirius looked carefully at her and she nodded.

She looked worse than Molly actually thought she would. A terribly pretty girl in a blue robe, but her snow white hair was terribly cluttered. It hung together and held small splatters of blood. She wrinkled her nose and felt pity for the girl, in real age she was almost ten years younger than Molly.  
"You've done her a great favor, Sirius." She looked at the man with the goodness and motherhood she held and she moved closer to the girl who seemed to wake up and suddenly she was looking at them.  
"Tilia, this is Molly Weasley. She will be helping you and taking a bit care of you now." Sirius smiled reassuring to Tilia, obviously it was better that a woman helped the girl rather than a grown man. Tilia nodded slowly and sat up in the bed. Fast Molly chased him out of the room and Tilia stood up.  
"Now it's just us girls." The motherly smile in the red haired woman's face made her feel somewhat calm and she smiled to her.  
"I appreciate this, Molly." She bowed her head slightly, still owning an old fashion respect. Molly seemed a bit startled, but caught herself fast.  
"Well then! You should undress. Do you have any wounds I should see?" She was circling around Tilia to get a better view of the girl. Oh dear, she looked just as old as her two sons, Fred and George.  
_They would absolutely adore her!  
_Tilia nodded and turned her back to Molly as she pulled the top half of, pushing her hair to her front and uncovering her badly bruised back. Molly whined terrified and suddenly Sirius came in quickly.  
"Is something wrong Molly… Oh, Merlin." She knew that they both were stunned and tears fell silently down her cheek. They looked at her back, trying to make this out.  
"Who did this to you, Tilia?" Molly's voice rung hysterically and Sirius cleansed his throat to get attention.  
"It's on her back. Bellatrix Lestrange, Rodolphous Lestrange, Dolohov and Alecto." His tone went lower and utter disgust filled the room. She was obviously not the only one knowing those persons. Those _animals. _She nodded, hearing a single teardrop hit the floor loudly. Molly started to make upset noises and she felt the hand of Sirius on her bare back, she closed her eyes. The pain stung, but still it was good that he was the one touching her back.  
"They marked her with the capital letter of Azkaban and their names. My cousin and her horrible friends…" His tone was shaking, but she wasn't surprised. She'd heard that she once was a Black. She nodded once again and suddenly a tingling sensation was on her back, relieving. A small smile crossed her face and the pain went dump. He had taken away the infection and heeled her the best he could.  
"Now you should clean her up, Molly." He cleaned his throat once again and left the room.

She wasn't looking like she had in 30 years; a smile was on her face too. Her snow white hair fell down her back heavily and reaching her waist. The face that once seemed so pale had gotten a hint of color and she felt better. She was still thin, very thin. She looked up at Molly with gratitude and started to straighten how the robe laid on her body.  
"You are truly a pretty girl." Motherhood shone out of the eyes of the kind Weasley woman and Tilia stood up and hugged the woman. She was the first one that she had hugged in 30 years now.  
"I'm so glad that you were here. I truly appreciate what you've done for me Molly." She whispered and when she let go of the older woman she could see a hint of tears in her eyes. She nodded quickly and showed her the way to the door so that they could go down. The day was still young now. She watched the surroundings, a dark house. Her nose wrinkled, but she didn't complain. With half closed eyes she followed Molly who had taken her arm and took her down the stairs, down a long corridor and down another stair. Anticipation filled her as she saw a long table and Sirius sat at one of the chairs, two other men were there.  
"Tilia! You look wonderful!" Sirius instantaneously jumped up and took over her arm, Molly watched them with an amused smile.  
"This is Arthur Weasley, Molly's husband, and this is my dear friend, Remus Lupin." He smiled brightly as he introduced her and she smiled to both of the men. Arthur looked at her with the same goodness Molly held and Remus seemed amused.  
"It's good to see that Sirius actually smiles." She heard Molly mumble as she went over to her husband. Remus still smiling; obviously was thinking the same. She tilted her head slightly and Sirius sat her down beside the shabby friend of his; Remus.  
"Remus here is a werewolf, but don't worry." He said quickly as he went out of the room. Everyone raised their eyebrow, except Remus who still was looking amused.  
"He is a weird one, isn't he?" Remus said as he looked over at the fair girl. She just tilted her head, looking around herself.


	6. And life returns

**I hope you guys understand how I've divided the text and who's view it is from part to part. **

Molly had said that she would come by every day for at least a week, and she wasn't kidding. The wonderful woman made sure of that Tilia got enough food and seemed to enjoy teaching her how she could cook. Obviously Sirius wasn't the man who would slave on the kitchen, so Tilia had said that as long as she was here she could cook. That was the least thing she could do for the man. She had laid on some weight now, it had gone already a week. It was a good thing; she had been too thin for her own good. Everything had a bright light on it, not like in Azkaban where everything seemed gray. Things were gray in Azkaban, no doubt about that. Quickly she looked at herself in the mirror. The clothes Molly had given her, which according to her was given to her by her daughter Ginny, fitted her very well. It was a deep blue dress with half long sleeves and a V neck. Its length was down to her knees and all in all it was really pretty. Molly had said that Ginny refused to wear it; she didn't like to wear dresses. Tilia grinned, it didn't bother her, and she really liked this dress. The room she was given kept drawing her attention, it was a woman's room, obviously, and it was truly beautiful. The room was different light shades of green and silver, and the big bed was made of a silver-ish substance, draped with dark green see-through curtains. There were a mirror that reached up to the roof and was about one meter wide, beside it there was a closet in silver with green decoration that could hold much more clothes than she would ever buy. She just smiled and started to braid her hair down so that it would fall down her shoulder. She had applied the slightest amount of mascara and her eyebrows had always had a light brown color. With a pleased mind she got out of the room and down the stairs. Other than that room everything seemed so dark. A big house, it suited its name; _The house of Black. _

She was a good woman, a young woman. Sirius kept his distance as he watched her walk around in the house, often looking for something new to discover. She could be as old as anything; she was still sweet and a tad childish. She was a fresh breath in this house. He scratched the back of his head as he made his way to the kitchen and sat down at the end of the table.  
"Kreacher!" His voice rung hard in the room, scaring Tilia and making the House-elf appear within a second.  
"Yes, Master?" The sarcastic and low voice of the badly behaving House-elf reached her barely and she turned around to finish the dinner instead.  
"Get me The daily prophet." Sirius said in a master's tone. The creature disappeared instantly and appeared with the newspaper before Sirius showed him away and he left. He hummed pleased and sat himself better back in the chair and started to read. His cousin had escaped prison with other Death Eaters earlier this week and people were still upset about it. He tried not to think about it, Tilia didn't even know. He looked up at her, she was wearing a blue dress Molly had given her, and it suited her. A smile appeared on Sirius's mouth and he tried to focus on the newspaper.

She didn't want to disturb him when he was reading and the silence was good. She slowly swung her wand and the pots went over at the oven and a fire was lightened. Happy with what she had learned she jumped up at the counter and studied the room while she got ladle to stir in the pot. She kept watching the surroundings and more than once her eyes laid themselves on Sirius. A smile appeared on her face as she studied him. He had to be in his mid thirties, but he seemed so troubled. Suddenly he looked up at her and met her gaze; he just stared at her, stared into her eyes. Redness rose in her cheeks and quickly she looked down. Just as fast as she had looked down she looked at him again, a smile was on his face and she smiled back at him. She didn't really know what to do, and not really what she truly felt. Butterflies made her smile go nervous and she looked down again.

He had felt two eyes lingering on him and slowly he had looked up and suddenly met those blue-gray eyes. It had stung in his chest, in a good way and he had kept her gaze. The redness covering her cheeks like roses had made him smile and she had looked down, almost like she had burnt herself. Quickly his pretty birdie had looked up and he had kept his smile, getting a shy smile back before she looked down. She was beautiful, utterly stunning. Her hair was braded in a pretty way as it hung down her shoulder, reaching almost her waist. She seemed like the innocent reincarnated and he kept having difficulties with seeing the Erklin in her, seeing the killer in her. She'd done it in self-defense, he knew that. Still she was a killer in blood. The Siren part of her was very clear. She kept drawing his attention, it laid something extra special on her. She was a men-magnet, obvious. He'd had the reincarnation of innocence, the beauty on two legs in his house for a week. It was seriously driving him slowly mad. Without thinking over it he rose up from his chair, slowly. She'd gotten suddenly busy with the cooking, still she was sitting at the counter. He approached her, slightly cautious. Quickly she looked over at him, tilting her head; she looked even more childish when she did that. He smiled again, an unsecure trait got over him as he stood in front of her, looking into those deep eyes. Red roses appeared on her cheeks and he brushed her cheek with his thumb. He thought about what he should say, but no words came out.


	7. Scabby dogs

She watched him, felt her lips shiver as he was looking into her eyes. He was the most handsome man she had met, there were no doubt. He made her shiver, he made her loose her breath and stumble without reason. And now he was standing in front of her, his hand on her waist and his face just inches away from hers.  
"What do you mean?" Her words were still shaky and his other hand laid itself on her neck. She swallowed, still locked in his eyes.  
"I think you know what I'm talking about." He smiled slightly and suddenly he covered her lips with his. She was stunned, but didn't move away. The grip of his hand on her neck was firm and she felt her own lips smile. He let go of her, searching her eyes for a reaction. She smiled, looking somewhat blissfully. Now he smiled too and she bit her lips, looking into his eyes.  
"I feel like such a pedophile!" He suddenly barked out and laughed, she grinned and just looked up at him.  
"Ey, I'm older than you, so shut it!" She still grinned and laid her hands around his neck. This was weird for her; she had never done anything like this. He grinned back at her and just looked down at this little woman. Slowly he untied her braid and nodded happily.  
"You look better with your hair loose, Tilia." He smiled with that caring smile and suddenly she almost jumped at looked over at her pots.  
"Oh, darn it!" She squealed as she suddenly took forth her wand. Sirius took a step back and she jumped down from the counter, trying to take control of the food. After a few minutes of frantic wand swooshing the food was saved and done. With a big grin she moved her wand and two plates, cutlery and two glasses landed on the table. Happily she moved the food over to the table and she sat down next to the chair that was Sirius's. The ragged man looked at her as she sat down and she smiled to him, a bit shyly.

He wondered; what had come upon him? Hm, he wondered how much Mooney would tease him if he found out that Padfoot, himself, had gotten a serious crush on Tilia. Maybe it was a good thing that he had fallen for her? They seemed to like each others company, they were both former Azkaban prisoners; so they understood each other. But it could also cause trouble, he had to think so. He couldn't put up his hope. He looked at her as she ate, her hair was slightly wavy and his eyebrows frowned. He would actually go even madder if he didn't get her. With a somehow confused mind he forced himself to drawing his attention to the food.

Slowly hours flew by , he knew that she would be asleep now and that she wouldn't wake up for several hours. Then she would start screaming ang he would try to comfort her; if she let him.  
She had nightmares and he understood her. She had spent so many years in hell, that had to me traumatizing. He sighed, barely noticing the green shades that appeared in his fire place. With a raised eyebrow he turned around in his chair and watched how the flames twirled and made an intense green light appear. Out of his fireplace his friend, Mooney, appeared. A smile came to the ragged mans face and he patted the chair next to him.  
"Mooney, you scabby dog. sit down." Mooney grinned, though the exhaustation of his condition were too wisible for Sirius.  
"Who are you to call me a scabby dog, Padfoot? If I remember it was you who brought home a half dead little birdy last week." With a strangled, painful moan Lupus sat down in the chair and his friend watched him carefully. Sirius looked away, trying not to grin.  
"A pretty birdie though..." He mumbled as he watched the fire, avoiding the amused eyes of his friend.  
"What is it with you, Padfoot? You seem so... In love." Mooney got away just in time as Sirius tried to slung a book at him. With a murderous look his dark friend crossed his arms.  
"That's nonsense, Mooney." Sirius looked straight forwards.  
"So there have been no romantic... _Stuff _between you guys?" He was teasing his friend, but a serious tone warned Sirius that Mooney meant it, he truly asked. Sirius sighed, annoyed of the fact that he had to answer.  
"I wouldn't call it _romantic, _Mooney. I would call it _weird." _Now he looked at his blonde, ragged friend. He was grinning at him, damned werewolf.  
"What happened, Padfoot?" Now Mooney tilted his head, searching the face of his friend. Sirius dragged the air deep into his lungs, looking into the roof.  
"I kissed her." Mooney went completely silent and stared at Padfoot, suddenly he bursted into laughter.  
"Now _that's _the Sirius Black I know!" He clapped his hands once and turned towards Sirius. Sirius just stared at him blankly, but the corner of his mouth twitched.  
"It's not like you think though, I was just attracted to her and couldn't resist when she sat on the kitchen counter, looking innocent as always." Now Mooney started to laugh even more and Sirius shot him a poisonous glare.  
"My friend, that sounds... You _are _back as the lad you were!" He raised his eyebrows twice and once again Sirius tried to throw a book at him.  
"Mooney, stop thinking in a perverted way. It was all... Well, it was just special. Weird." He shook his head, as if he was trying to win his mind back. He'd lost it, he was almost positive about that. Mooney patted his back.  
"No worries, Padfoot. I'm sure she adores you and that she'll be a fiery little thing." Mooney grinned and this time Sirius jumped at him, irritated.  
_Damned werewolf._

**Brought the focuse more to Sirius now and Remus just... Jumped in. Well, I hope you liked it. I don't think I will leave things simple for the dog and the little birdie in the future though. Any ideas?**


	8. Sirius bloody Black

**Truly sorry for a late chapter, but I'm soon getting autumn vacation and then I have a lot of work, tests at stuff that needs to be done first. I will update more frequently now. Is there any character you want to see? I want to make this a bit more intriguing for the readers and getting review would be a good way to learn what **_**you **_**guys want. Review!**

He watched her, tried to make out what made her so bloody irresistible to him. She had snow white hair down to her waist, grey eyes with sparkling blue spots, gentle curves, a pale, red, heartshaped mouth, an innocent halo, but yet the mind of a beast.  
He grinned; he enjoyed every little part of her. And hey; she even took him out for walk! Padfoot at least.  
She had even been the first living being, except from Dumbledore, who had seen immediately that he was an animagus.

She cooked for him, didn't complain about his clothing, hated death eaters, got along with Molly and Arthur, and she even had gotten along nicely with Remus. He didn't think that would happen; because of that little… She-killed-two-werewolves-dilemma.  
Why the bloody hell did he sit here and mutter then? She could live here with him, forever, and be his girl. No; his woman.  
Feeling like a stalker, he looked away. She was sitting in one of the livingrooms, looking pretty as always. He sighed, not daring to do what he wanted to. Better go to Buckbeak instead. He snorted.  
_I will try. Later. _

__Anger had been racing within her, a thousand mad fire demons threatening to tear _something _apart. She had read the newspaper, read that "old" news of a mass breakout. Why hadn't Sirius told her? He should have told her that Bellatrix was out! With an angry moan she got up from the couch she had been sitting in for an hour. She turned quickly around, making her pale blue robe fly behind her legs. She headed for the window, staring suspiciously out at the street.  
"Sirius bloody damned Black!" She hissed lowly, not really that upset with him, but she had to take it out on someone.  
"Mister Bloody damned Black at your service." A slightly amused voice was heard behind her, but she refused to turn around. Crossing her arms and laying her weight on her right hip she stared straight forward.  
"You keep burning those newspapers." Was all she said, quiet and calm in her voice.  
"We don't need old newspapers." He took two steps towards her, but took one back. She turned her head slightly to look back at him, but kept it on the halfway.  
"You didn't want me to read about Bellatrix and those little cuties, Sirius." She frowned, a bit irritated.  
"You didn't need to read it; it's not good for you." Hesitating he took another step towards her, wondering if she would turn on to him if he did.  
"I can decide myself if it's good or bad for me." Now she turned towards him, raising her chin ever so slightly. He reached out for her, letting his hand hang in the air for a minute before he let it drop. He shrugged.  
"But what good are you getting from reading it, Tilia?" His voice was pleading, begging her to see why he had done as he did.  
"Still you could have told me. It's not like I will hunt her down, Sirius." She crossed her arms tighter and turned around, facing the window. Now he stepped up to her and laid his arm on her shoulder.  
"You wouldn't admit it if hell was depending on it." A small grin she heard it. He was right, she wasn't the admitting person. "But I'm having a meeting later this evening…" Once again he hesitated.  
"Don't worry; I will be at my room." She smiled weakly, not even wanting to take a part of the meeting anyway.  
"Tilia, I like you." He suddenly said, one of her eyebrows rose, waiting for a continuing.  
"I like you too, Sirius." Her voice barely was heard, she really wanted him to say something more. He frowned and left, not knowing what he should say.

How bloody hard could it be? He was Sirius bloody Black. He had charmed numerous of ladies through his days and had always been the ultimate bachelor. He couldn't charm her like he had done with other; she would hex him to smithereens if he did so. Perhaps he needed to ask someone. Definitely not Mooney, and definitely not Molly. Perhaps he could ask Snivellus? He burst into laughter, the thought was absolutely absurd. For a moment he truly wished he could ask James. He huffed, wishing he never thought that awful thought.  
Luckily Christmas was coming, and this year he wouldn't be alone. Perhaps he could talk to someone in the order too? Oh, dear Merlin. When did he become such a whiney preteen-acting 36 year old man? He could only remember one incident where one of the Marauders had acted like that. James when he fell in love with Lily. Oh, Prongs, Padfoot had found a Lily for himself. This one was a former Azkaban prisoner who was a… _Creature. _But what did he care? It only made her more interesting.  
"Tilia, would you fancy walking Padfoot?" He jumped off his ragged chair and quickly got down the stairs.  
_Irritating preteen-acting 36 year old man. _

The month went scarily quickly away, blowing all his former disbeliefs and vague thoughts of being an idiot away. It quickly came back the week after. Two weeks until Christmas, it was miraculous how the country had changed. How the world seemed to lay in a thick cover of snow, yellow candles could be seen in every window. He smiled lightly, hoping the snow would show him something new. It had shown him a new side of Tilia, more of that gorgeous innocent of hers, and suddenly how caring she seemed to be. She had decorated the house, forced Kreacher to act more nicely. That wouldn't be too difficult, Kreacher seemed to quite like Tilia. It could be because of how strict she was, the fact that she had no muggle blood and he thought that his house-elf probably liked Erklings.  
"Perhaps she does him off like the Erklings daughter…" A low malicious chuckle was heard outside his door and Sirius raised his eyebrow. Erklings daughter? Where had he heard that before?  
"It's the German story about the man who refuses the Elverkonge's daughter, Sirius." The voice of the old man he knew too well was heard and Sirius jumped at least two inches.  
"Albus?" He turned around and looked into the fireplace, seeing the elderly face with white beard glowing green. He shook his head, laughing.  
"Are we up for a history lesson, Sirius?" The man smiled ever so slightly.  
"Isn't that the tale where the Erkling daughter gets so mad about getting refused that she scares the man half to death and the next day his bride finds him dead?" He tilted his head, looking at his aging friend. He nodded, a glint in his eyes.  
"Yes, you do remember. In the tale the girl is somehow beautiful, and so are some Erklings. So are your pretty Tilia." The man looked at his ragged friend, and former student, with a soothing patience.  
"She is not mine, Albus." Sirius looked away, a bit embarrassed. The older man chuckled, knowing that he hit a tender spot.  
"You are what she needs and she is what you need. Stop refusing yourself something you know you want, my friend." As if he was talking some sense into the younger Sirius, the one he had been for about 10-20 years ago. Sirius shrugged, not taking in what he truly said.  
"But what are you really here to say, Albus?" He leaned his chin heavily in his hand.  
"I believe we might have a tricky problem with a certain Bellatrix." Suddenly the face laid itself in serious folds, Sirius held his breath.  
"What is my no-good cousin up to?" He closed his eyes for a moment, rubbing his temples. He opened his eyes, looking straight into a green, concerned face.  
"Bellatrix has a gruesome desire to finish off Tilia."


	9. Silver teardrops

…"_What is my no-good cousin up to?" He closed his eyes for a moment, rubbing his temples. He opened his eyes, looking straight into a green, concerned face.  
"Bellatrix has a gruesome desire to finish off Tilia."…_

"What? Finish off Tilia, how?" His grey eyes shot lightning, trying to think of any other meaning about what Albus just told him.  
"She wants to _kill _Tiliana. His ragged friend lowered his head as he spoke, Sirius seemed to be upset, but a growing anger grew inside him, like a werewolf. Sadly he only was an animagus right now.  
"She is _not _going to get my Tilia. Bellatrix Lestrange is not getting anywhere near her." The voice of the ragged, black dog in human form lowered itself to a hiss. He looked like he was going all… _Dog _right now. A guardian dog.  
"She can't get into this house, that's good… But our fellow friend can't stay in this house forever, you know." A concerned frown appeared in a face that had seen better times. His eyes surrounded by endless wrinkles and half moon glasses. He was certainly concerned.  
"Maybe I should kill her then." Sirius looked away, concentrating on an interesting brick instead. Dumbledore sighed, knowing that he was dealing with an utterly stubborn dog.  
"We'll see, Sirius. We'll talk more about this at Christmas times. But please, don't make the same mistake, tell her this time." Suddenly Albus looked as old as his age; the war wretched him too. Sirius nodded slowly, facing the green flames. Suddenly his old friend winked at him and smiled before the green flames perished.

She hummed quietly as she circled the dining table, making sure everything was in correct order.  
"Kreacher?" She said with a more soft tone. The creature was not that used to it yet, but he listened to her if he was nearby.  
"Yes, what does the Miss want from Kreacher?" The monotone but still weird voice was heard from behind her and she kept watching the table.  
"Couldn't you find some old decorations; the table could need something more." She could sense the small amount of perhaps happiness, if one could use that word in his presence, shine from the old, wrinkled face of the house-elf.  
"Yes, Miss." Suddenly he disappeared and she smiled happily.  
"At least he listens to someone." A slightly amused voice was heard behind her and she turned around quickly, smiling ever so happily.  
"He listens to you too, you know. You're his master." Her features went soft as she circled him, brushing his clothes, removing dust and straightening them.  
"But he listens to you with joy, he likes you." When she was in front of him he laid his hands on her shoulders, standing closer to her than he had in a while. She blushed slightly, leaving icy red roses in her cheeks. He brushed her cheek, feeling how warm it was.  
"I guess. I don't know why though." She shrugged, her eyes fell down, staring intensely at the floor. Slowly he took her chin, carefully.  
"Don't let those pretty eyes drop." Mumbling he almost let his mouth slide open without knowing it.  
"Don't." Her voice faded before it started, seeming more like a helpless whisper. She kept her eyes at him, not able to let it go.  
"I will never hurt you, Tilia." His mouth went dry, trying all he could to cope with what might be in his brain he kept his hand under her chin.  
"Then why do you prolong my misery, Sirius?" She felt little, awfully small as she stood there, a head lower than Sirius with his hand under her chin and eyes that sparkled more with misery as she spoke.  
"How do I prolong your misery, please tell me?" He took a step closer to her, leaning his head down while he held her chin. One hand slid down to the middle of her back.  
"This." Her eyes sparkled with what he thought might be tears? "You walk away when we are close, right after we almost completely connect. Please, Sirius. Don't walk away from me?" He could see silver glimmer in her eyes, small drops of pure silver liquid dripping down her cheeks like fairy waterfalls. Something enchanted, purer than unicorn blood. He caught her tear, looking at it in awe. She sniffed, smiling weakly up at him in a manner of saying _"It's too hard to explain." _He dropped his enchanted gaze from the small drops of silver and set his eyes at this woman in front of him. This woman who set his mind and heart on fire, this woman of silver, of forests and dreams.  
_His dreams.  
_"You are every dream I've ever had, a woman I never can give… You deserve everything good, Tilia. You deserve servants, richness beyond our wildest dreams. Not even a king deserves _you_, Tilia." A painful expression covered his face as he laid his hands around her face, carefully holding this precious thing.  
"But can't you realize that I want you, _you, _Sirius Black? I may not be a pureblood witch, hah! I'm not even fully a _human being! _But I know what I want, I know that I actually hold a heart in my chest. So do not walk away from me when I beg you, Sirius. I know you don't want to abandon me, so again… _Please_?" A sharp but faint glimt of childish defiance enlightened those pale eyes of hers as she looked up at him, challenging him somehow. How could he refuse her, he sighed.  
"As long as you will be forever mine." As he said those words, the words she had pleaded for a smile brightened her tiny face.  
"As long as _you_ will be _mine _forever." He grinned at her, at her charming defiance. He nodded and leaned down to meet those perfectly curved lips. She instantly responded by stepping closer to him. His grip around her face slowly let loose and he parted his lips from hers.  
"But will you tell me about those silver tears at any point?" A grin appeared on his face, smoothened by eyes still blurred by the kiss. She poked him in the neck, grinning ever so slightly.  
"Maybe, but until then we can imagine that I'm wearing silver eyeshade." She winked at him, getting a half strict look from him.  
"You never wear eyeshade, Tilia." He kissed the corner of her lip, making another smile appear.  
"I said, _imagine._" She petted his head, making him slightly annoyed.  
_He wanted to know, really. _

Shadows could hide feasting wolves, but they would never hide the noises of feasting beasts. They were out, hiding like mice in the household of a cat. Killing were a treat, torturing was heaven.  
_At least for her._  
They couldn't break her, they hadn't even could held her inside the walls of Azkaban! Hah! Filthy _half_ breeds, _bloodtraitors_ and _muggles_.  
She held her breath for three seconds, feeling how her lungs didn't even panic. She was superior, a queen! A bloody pureblood, a _fine _exemplar of Black! Ah, she was Bellatrix, the ever so charming, murderous. A grin came to her face, flashing teeth sharp as a wolf's. She jumped up, twirling on her toes in the middle of the dark room.  
"Dear Bellatrix, why does your happiness fill this room?" A voice, the voice of doom, her bliss, filled her chest and ears. She widened her eyes, turning at her heel and staring enchanted at the door.  
"Oh, Master!" A childish squeal came from her throat as she bowed down for The Dark Lord. He hummed, more like a snake, but his humanity was barely heard in a voice so tainted. "It's nothing in particular, my Dear Master. Just… _Torture._" She raised her head, grinning her hazardous teeth at him in a smile.  
"And who might be given this utter pleasure of yours, Bellatrix?" The Dark Lord almost tilted his head, if he could be amused by anything but murder, this would amuse him.  
"Tiliana…" Her voice, a vague whisper disappearing in the dark room.

**Yeeeaaaah…. I was supposed to write this earlier, but I kinda got my heart broken. Damned boy… Anyway; here this chapter is. I do hope you like it? Review.**


	10. Itty bitty

Her own screaming voice awoke her, waking the people far beyond death. She felt her lungs almost collapsing by the pressure of her heavy breath and piercing cry. With eyes wide open Tilia got up from her laying position and her loose, white nightgown tightened around her. She bit her lips, feeling how blood quickly dripped out of small wounds and how it fell into her mouth. She looked around herself, feeling how her heavy and quick breath made her vision blurry and the shaded, light room became darker and darker in front of her eyes.

_A woman running, two women. With hate to their guts the wildest one of them had jumped after her, setting her filthy, long claws into her ankles. She had shrieked, feeling how blood ran down her feet and hearing how the woman laughed like a madman.  
"Itty bitty Tilia, are you afraid of me?" Like talking to a child, it scared her though.  
"Let go of me, Bella!" Quickly she had thrown herself towards her, ignoring how her ankles were ripping apart under the still pressuring grip. __  
"Why should I? This is fun, Tilia! Can't you see how much fun this is?" She chuckled with malice and fog filled her vision, almost blocked out this hell.  
"You're mad, let me GO!" Tilia set her claws into the arms of the ragged woman, but all she could see was a smile in the dirty face. Eyes shining with darkness and madness, surrounded by that wild hair.  
"You're mad too, don't forget that." She froze, seeing how Bella suddenly poked her nose. Things went even foggier and suddenly something grabbed her, stabbed her in the back. _

Chills went down her spine as she thought about her nightmare, oh… She wished. _Nightmare. _Another heavy chill went down her spine as she thought about what Bellatrix had said…

"_You're mad too, don't forget that."_

She was right, she's _right._ Her moment of sanity was over, the insanity was coming back. Carefully she dragged her legs under her chin, feeling how insanity slowly was dripping into her mind, mocking her. Telling her that it was back. Heavy steps that she didn't really notice was coming down the stairs, rushing towards her room. Her door flew open; she didn't even notice the dark, ragged man that came in, worry written in his face.

"Is something wrong? You screamed, are you alright?" He tried to catch his breath as he looked at her, seeing that angel in white. Visible trails of tears down her cheeks.

"I'm fine." With a calming, heavy breath she tried to catch her regular breath, quieting the screaming voice in her head. "Just a bad dream..." She shook her head, feeling how something inside her head told her to hit someone.

"It must have been a bloody horrible one." Sirius walked over the wooden floor, carefully watching her mood and reaction. To be honest: she seemed to be in despair. Still watching her he shoved the curtains around the bed away, sitting down beside her. Her hands were tightly wrapped around her legs and her face almost hidden away under her hair.

"I'm mad, Sirius. Do you know that?" She looked up at him, feeling like a little child. He petted her head softly, watching her with some sort of I'm-trying-to-understand-you-look.

"You're not mad, you're out of Azkaban and you are going back to normal." He almost talked to her with a father like tone. She shook her head, bitterly smiling while traitorous tears blinked in the corner of her eyes.

"No, Sirius, I'm mad. It's all coming back, I hear voices, I dream awful things." Her eyes went narrow as she spoke, almost as if she realized things that she once had denied that even existed. She might be right, but what could he expect? What could anyone expect? She had been tortured and destroyed for years and years! So had he, maybe he was mad to? To be honest; yes, he was mad. But he didn't hear voices and he didn't dream that much anymore.

"But I'm here for you, I'll watch over you." Carefully he stroked her pale hair, she reminded her of an angel. Well, she might be a mad angel. With gentle hands he loosened her grip around her legs and shoved himself closer to her. She responded looking up at him with lethargic eyes.

"Stay." She whispered quietly as he laid her legs down and put the quilt around her. Without taking his eyes of her he lay down beside her and felt her firm grip around the top of his arm.

"I'm not going anywhere." He whispered.

The night went away quickly when he was there, a reminder that someone somehow could prevent her from going completely nuts. She was the one to get up first, leaving him in her bed with a sleepy smile on his face and messy hair to all directions. He was awfully cute, truly handsome. He hadn't shaved his beard for three days and should definitely trim some of it soon. She sighed as she backed out of the room, closing the door as quietly as she could. She could make him breakfast. Somehow it made her proud to be doing house chords. She wore her blue robe, the one that for her symbolized freedom.

"Itty bitty baby…" A voice rung in the room and she spanned around with her arms raised in defense. There was… Nobody? With slow steps she backed down the stairs that led to the dining room and kitchen.

"Itty bitty Tilia?" The voice turned to childish mockery and she was almost about to trip down the stairs as she stumbled backwards.

"You can't be here…" She whispered quietly. Disbelief in her voice rung louder than what was intended. She could swear that she heard malicious chuckle. It was a part of her imagination; it had to be. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with much needed air, and she walked towards the kitchen counter. She kept repeating breathing exercises, trying to calm herself down before she did something really stupid. Silly girl.

"Please, do it again, Master!" The more childish side of Bellatrix was showing as she jumped up and down in front of her master. She amused him, though she was a fool. She would never let him down though; he was her God.

"Be patient, Bella. Be patient." With a monotone voice he sat her on her place and he closed his eyes. Amusing lady, trustworthy lady. Especially her hate and thirst for revenge was keeping him amused. That Tiliana, she had begged him to torture her, go into her mind. But that Tiliana… She could be good to have at his side, she was not _human, _she was a half-blood, but still… Just the thought of what she actually _was _almost gave him chills. Maybe he shouldn't let Bella kill Tilia? It seemed to be a good idea.

"You might have to be _kinder _towards our little friend in the future." He opened his eyes, seeing how Bella's jaw had dropped.

"_Kind _to her? Kind to _her? _Why the bloody hell do I have to do that!" She almost jumped again, but tried to restrain herself. She couldn't insulter her _Master._

"Because she might be good to have, Bella. Just think about what she is capable of doing?" He hummed with a snakelike tone and stroked the snake that easily slid down on his shoulder and onto the arm of the chair. It was like a light had come to Bella as she looked at him with curiosity and then amusement.

"Dear Master, you are truly brilliant!"

**Hmm, new ideas for this story. Sorry for the poorly updating nowadays, but I have other things to do also. Sadly. **


	11. Notification

**I'm absolutely aware of the fact that I haven't written on my two stories for some time now. ****Christmas came and went and I've got a life (eeeehhh, no I haven't, but can't we pretend?). Giving "life" a second shot and I'll probably write more at the end of this month or in February when I'll be 100% ... ****Okai… The English word for that… ****Well, I'm gonna get an operation and stay home for two weeks (because that damned doctor says so). **

**Unless I'm passing out of pain medications I promise I will write. **

**Yours sincerely, Christine.**


	12. Knives

**Here you go, I blame the coming examinations. **

"Dear, why did you state Alecto as a man at the hearing?" Amusement was clearly heard behind her, in the rough voice of Sirius. A childish smirk appeared in her face as she stood with her back against him, making breakfast for them.

"I can't help but to compare Alecto to a man."

"Almost more of a man than her brother." While he said it he quickly approached her and laid his arms safely around her waist, feeling how her torso immediately relaxed. "But we should attend to looking after your… back later." He cleared his throat, knowing how much she would hate that.

"Why? It seems to heal well anyway." Suddenly she spoke with a stiff tone, almost rejecting. With systematic and firm movements she cut several slices of bread. She moved them over to a big plate, and then starting to slice some damned cheese.

"You know it's either going to be me who have to do it, or Molly. Tell me which you would prefer then." To be honest; he got a bit disappointed, but what could he honestly expect? He was asking to touch what were very bad memories.

"I… I will think about it, Padfoot." She looked back at him with a tad softer eyes than those who had almost killed the bread one minute ago.

"I've seen them before, my love. You know I won't do anything you're not comfortable with." While holding her tightly he kissed the beginning of her neck. He felt how she shrugged, but kept his arms firmly around her waist, turning her head to looking into those silvery grey eyes. He remembered how silver streaks had drawn lines down her cheeks. A tingling sensation climbed up from the bottom of his soul to his stomach when he watched her now. She was quite right, actually. He could see it from here.

_Locked__ away madness. _

"I can attend to my wounds myself anyway." Rejecting him, just by the glimpse she had seen in his eyes, she turned her head around. Refusing him.

"Are you going to shut me out?" His voice was not sore, just merely careful about bringing this little thing in her further to the surface.

"No, I will make breakfast first." A deep breath made him release her waist. Yeah… That breakfast she'd been trying to make for over an hour. She'd been terrified too many times, feeling the voices chase her.

_Bella. _

"If that's what you want, but you'll have to tell me what's _really _bothering you today sooner or later." A command, she knew it was a bloody command.

"I don't _have to _do anything, Sirius." She grabbed the knife, felt its firm handle beneath her palm. With a bit more confidence than earlier on she started to slice bread.

"I know, but now you're just being stubborn!" Irritation rung loud in the dog growl that suddenly escaped his throat. She turned around quickly, still holding on to the kitchen knife.

"Do _not _growl at me in that way, Sirius." Her voice wasn't as firm as she'd wanted it to be. She didn't want to sound scared, or like a complete sissy. With taunted eyes she followed his stiff stare towards her own knife.

"Then I'd rather you put the knife away." Somehow she felt the room shrink as he spoke, his words became merely echoes in a room that seemed to fade to black. It became a blur, he became a blur. With a faded out thumping noise the knife fell from her hand and onto the floor. A warm breath of air was drawn into her mouth slowly, too slowly. She didn't recognize his voice, she barely heard it, as he yelled out her name in something that may be recognized as shock, or fear or something in that manner. A sharp pain started to spread from her bare toes and up to her ankles, the tunnel-sight grew thicker and thicker until black fog covered her eyes. Something shook her, held a tight grip on her shoulders. A firm hand slid across her face, almost like a slap. It might be, she couldn't feel it if he slapped her anyway. Quickly she drew her breath deep in, a sharp cold sensation that tore the black fog away.

"Oh… Uh… Sorry." As she looked upon his frightened eyes she felt a little bit… Tiny. She looked away as she felt his eyes wander down to her foot. Jumping a step backwards he let go of her shoulders, only staring down at her foot.

"Why in the name of Merlin do you bleed black?" His voice was more analyzing that frightened now, he had seen a lot, but it didn't help him from getting shocked when his woman suddenly bled black. Well, she cried silvertears, so maybe it wasn't as odd as it should seem to be.

"It's only something that comes with being a crossbreed. And to correct you; it's a deep dark shade of _blue_." She calmly walked over to the kitchen table and sat down at one of the chairs. She carefully squinted with her eyes to observe the wound that was afflicted by the knife she had dropped. She drew out her wand from her robe pocket and mumbled a few words before the wound carefully closed itself.

"May I ask you why you completely blacked out, Tilia?"

"I'm just a little stirred up. It's nothing, really." A pale smile came to her face as she carefully looked up at him, skeptical if he would actually believe her.

Carefully he observed every detail of her body language, searching for some sign that would lead him to the solution.

"And may I ask why you are stirred up this morning? I don't see explosions outside or house-elves raging." He was quite frankly a bit too mocking right now, but he couldn't help it. The sarcasm and irritation came to the surface when there was something he really couldn't understand.

"Then I guess it's none of your business."

"You are acting childish, Tilia."

"It's her, okay? I don't know if I'm going mad or if it's some sick mental compulsion. I just _hear _her." Immediately her hands laid themselves on her temples, massaging away the upcoming headache.

"What… Why? What did you hear?" The alerted authority in him came bright forward as he sat down on his knees in front of her, watching her tiny face with the big, bold eyes.

"That silly _itty bitty baby _stuff."

"It could be your own twisted imagination?" He tried to make a good explanation, one that wouldn't involve Bellatrix inside Tilia's head for real. That would be awful, a sheer catastrophe for her mental health that had seemed to be getting better. And besides; if Bellatrix could get inside Tilia's head, which could mean that dear cousin Bellatrix could find out where they actually were. They had to move.


End file.
